


under my skin (crimson red lies)

by Breadyboyo



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Angst, Bisexual Jeremy Heere, Bittersweet, Eventual Happy Ending, Gay Michael Mell, Gen, Hospitalization, Hurt Michael, Recovery, Sad Michael, Self-Harm, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-08
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:55:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26359810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Breadyboyo/pseuds/Breadyboyo
Summary: "Get out of my way, loser."After the steady deterioration of their friendship, Michael is just barely clinging to the hope that Jeremy would return and rekindle the bonds the two shared. One confrontation in the bathroom later, the last bit of ground he was standing on crumbles to dust - plummeting him into a void of misery, sorrow, and hopelessness.Losing himself in an ever-growing thick fog, Michael chooses to escape everything; what is he if not a cowardice loser?
Relationships: Jeremy Heere/Michael Mell
Comments: 15
Kudos: 74





	1. promises and regret

_They giggled, rolling around in the grass as both of their bodies kicked up some dandelions. Landing at the base of the hill, they laid there - staring at the afternoon sunset as the comfortable, warm shade of orange that leaked into the sky was being sucked back into the sun._

_“You’re covered in flowers, Jer!” Michael laughed, pointing at the dandelion-covered mess that was Jeremy’s clothes._

_“So are you, Micah!” Jeremy bit back - a bright red flush covering his cheeks._

_Michael looked down to his own flower-dirtied clothes - specks of dirt clinging to them. He snorted, lying back down to the grass as exhaustion flooded him. Jeremy is quick to follow._

_“Hey, Jer?” Michael said, turning his head to the boy beside him._

_“Yeah, Michael?”_

_“We’ll be best friends forever, right?” he asked - a tinge of wariness in the 10-year-old’s voice._

_“Of course, Micah!”_

_A beaming smile makes itself seen on Michael’s face. With a grin going from cheek to cheek, he pulled on Jeremy’s arm and led them back to the garden for another game._

* * *

Cold, alone, empty. Michael was drowning in an ocean of grief and self-loathing, and his lifesaver had left him to die.

_Get out of my way, loser._

_loser_

The word rang in his head like a hammer pounding against his skull. His best - no, ex - friend had hurt him, and he wasn’t even under the squip’s influence.

A hollow laugh filled with sorrow and grief escaped his lips as tears streamed from his unfocused eyes.

He had nothing left; nobody left. He _was_ nothing.

He pulled himself up and walked towards the bathroom - movements stiff and robot-like.  
His arm reached for the top cabinet - pulling out a small unlabeled case. His other hand moved to the door - closing the door and locking it.

Opening the small case, an open razor was nestled snugly in between two cotton puffs. He picked the mass of metal into his fingers, and already, he felt its temptation - ready to pull Michael back into the dark spiral he swore to never return.

Promises were meant to be broken.

What a cliche, he was. A teenager hurting himself in a bathroom. It would’ve been funny had Michael found anything funny these days.

Seating himself on the cold tile floor, he lifts his sleeves up - a myriad of small cuts and slits decorating his left arm.

Remembering the note he had prepared and slowly pulling it out of his hoodie’s pocket and into the floor in front of him, he sat against the bathroom wall as he pressed the blade against his sullied skin. Blood seeped out from his arm - staining the blade.

He pressed harder. More blood leaked - coating the blade even more.

He pressed harder. His fingertips were drenched in his own crimson red - drops of it falling onto the tile floor.

He pressed harder. Thoughts about the people who would miss him start to fade as dizziness engulfed his mind. He concludes that nobody would.

He pressed harder. His eyes started to droop - feeling tired and exhausted.

He stopped pressing.

* * *

Jeremy entered the room - a bouquet of fresh spring flowers in his hand. The room was quiet - the only noise being the constant beeping of a machine by the bedside. Taking slow strides, he slots the bouquet into the glass vase - pulling out the old set of flowers.

He seats himself on a chair by the bed and takes a good look around the well-familiarized hospital ward. White walls surrounded him in a square with various furniture decorating the corners. His eyes land on the sleeping figure beside him, and once again, his heart starts to ache.

“Hi, Micah,” he greeted, knowing full well the lack of hearing unconscious people have.

“I’m sorry it’s been a while since I visited. College has been really hard these past few days. But I brought you some flowers, aren’t they pretty?”

Silence is the only response he gets. It’s always been silent in this room. Guilt starts to tug at his heart, at the thought.

“I can’t really complain about you being quiet, huh?” he said, looking down at the hospital floor as he continued. “I’m sorry, Michael. It’s all my fault.”

Tears stung his eyes as he brushed the boy’s hair away - revealing the tired expression and closed eyes that seemed to be a permanent feature of Michael nowadays.

Laying on Michael’s chest, exhaustion takes over and his eyes start to flicker. With a final glance at Michael’s face, he feels himself fall asleep - comfort and warmth radiating from his friend.


	2. memories

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello and welcome back to another episode of "torture the good children." I feed off your tears.

Jeremy flipped through shirt hangers - looking for something acceptable to wear for when he’d visit Michael later. After a few minutes of reaching into the back of his closet, his hand makes contact with a cardboard-texture. Jeremy raised an eyebrow at that

Gripping the thing at the back of his closet, he pulled the squaric object to the front. An unmarked and unnamed cardboard box left the dark and into Jeremy’s hold.

His breath was caught in his throat as he opened the lid - revealing various small trinkets like ticket stubs, birthday cards, video games. Reaching for one of the ticket stubs, he sees the name of a band he and Michel used to go to.

_Michael_

The memory of them cheering and rocking to the music the band in front of them seemed so far away. He continued rummaging through the pile with bated breath. Small things that used to hold fond memories of past events; now they were just cruel reminders of what was no longer.

Jeremy’s 10th birthday card that Michael gave him with a dopey smile and a bone-crushing hug, mutual drawings of each other’s favorite superhero that they drew in 4th-grade art class, small army figures from their first playdate.

Before he realized it, he went through the entirety of the box - save for one final thing. A conspicuous-looking book with a blank red cover. He opened the book.

_October 14th, 2008_

_Today was an awesome day! Me and Micah went to get some ice cream today after school. I forgot to bring money, though Micah said he can buy me mine. Michael’s the best! Halloween is coming soon, so me and Micah are gonna go as a pair like Superman and Batman. I can’t wait!_

Jeremy flipped past a few dozen pages.

_July 4th, 2009_

_The hotdogs mommy and daddy made were really tasty! The fireworks were pretty too. I accidentally hit Michael’s with a small firecracker, though. He looked hurt, but he said he was okay. Reminder: Ask mommy for medicine for Mikey._

Ignoring the blur that he started seeing, he continued flipping through more and more pages.

_September 21st, 2010_

_A bunch of mean bullies played with my books. They wrote ‘faggot’ all over my textbooks. I told mom, and she said it’s a bad word and that I shouldn’t say it._

As he fervently flipped past pages, he reached the final entry. His glassy eyes widened at the last transcript he wrote before forgetting and leaving the book in a cold, dark corner collecting dust.

_February 14th, 2011_

_Valentine’s Day was kinda boring. Everyone just went around giving cards to each other. I thought I wasn’t gonna get a card until Micah gave me one. I think Michael doesn’t know that you only give cards to girls that you thought looked pretty._

His grip on the book faltered as sobs went up to his throat. Letting the book fall to the floor, tears slid down his cheeks with no end - staining the carpet beneath him.

He hugged himself tight close as his body shivered coldly despite the lack of a breeze in the room.

* * *

_Michael took his tray of food and walked to the corner of the cafeteria - hood up and gaze down to avoid any onlookers. When he passed by a somewhat crowded table, a familiar voice caught his attention._

_“Hey, Jeremy. Didn’t you use to be friends with antisocial headphones kid?_

_Michael waited with bated breath for the boy’s response._

_“Oh, I guess we hung out a little bit. I’m so over it, though.” Jeremy laughed, like their relationship of 12 years was a joke to him._

_Michael felt the tendrils of a panic attack start to situate itself around his neck like a noose. His grip on his tray faltered, causing him to drop it. The sound of food and silverware crashing against the floor caused some heads to turn, including that of his ex-best and only friend._

_The stares from all around started suffocating him. Breaking into a sprint, he slammed open the cafeteria door and ran to the nearest bathroom._

_With a click, he locked himself into an empty stall and sat against the toilet. Bringing his knees up to his face, tears started to wet the sleeve of his jacket as he cried silently. Completely, and utterly alone._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i swear ill make the chapters longer. also, sorry for the long update times. this week was exam week, meaning I had very little time to actually write. but its over now! and my school schedule has pulled back on its length! which means more writing! see you soon.
> 
> come yell at my rocky update schedule on Discord here: bread#6010
> 
> Edit 13 days after posting: just noticed an error with the beginning of the second chapter when Jeremy said he would visit himself. Error has been fixed.


	3. warm petals and alluring gleams

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *sips tea* apologies for the wait, I was being a procrastinating snail. hope you enjoy

Jeremy stood in front of the door - bouquet composed of bright-white gardenias and strands of lavender held tightly in his arms. As his free arm went to grip the door handle, he couldn’t help but wish that the eyes that were on the other side of the door were open and awake; they never were.

Walking into the room, his eyes land on the familiar figure on the bed. Except for the constant beeping beside Michael, the room was ghost-quiet, the concept a foreign one to those who knew Michael well. No room that Michael was ever in could ever be considered quiet, but he supposed that the rule wouldn’t apply if said person was in a coma.

With a plod, he approached his best friend’s bedside, carefully extracting yesterday’s flowers and sliding in the new bunch. The warm shades of purple and light helped alleviate and brighten up the otherwise dark and gloomy atmosphere of your typical hospital ward.

Plopping onto the chair, he snuck a glance towards his bed-ridden friend, the boy’s lively eyes that gleamed with excitement at spending time with him now reduced to cold, sleeping ones that were deathly still.

A sigh filled the room as Jeremy diverted his gaze from Michael’s closed eyes, disappointment present in the sound as the raven-haired boy stayed asleep. He didn’t know what he was expecting, thinking that Michael would just magically awaken from a coma-like that.

The sudden squeaking of the door handle turning and the actual door swinging inward on its hinges almost made Jeremy jump out of his skin. He spun his head towards the opening door - a female figure stepping into the room.

Shock appeared on the woman’s face as his eyes landed on Jeremy. Recognizing the woman as one of Michael’s mom. 

“Oh, h-hi, Mrs. Mell.” Jeremy said.

“Jeremy! You’re here pretty early.” she exclaimed, closing the door behind her. “I-I guess I am, h-huh?” Nervous laughter accompanied the response. Jeremy went to stand up - wanting to leave mother and son alone - before the woman stopped him.

“Aww, c’mon, Jeremy. Neither me nor Ev has seen you recently. Why don’t we catch up?” she asked. Her gaze briefly switched from Jeremy to the sleeping figure behind him - a faint look of hurt gleaming in her eyes - before it returned to him

“I’m sure Michael would appreciate his two most favorite people visiting him at the same time. But don’t tell Ev that, alright?” The chuckle that followed the bout of humor attempted to lift the bleak atmosphere of being in a room with a sick loved one.

As Jeremy weighed his options, the sudden sound of the woman’s voice cut him loose from his train of thought.

“If- If you have things to do, then that’s fine too! I don’t think-” a small pause, “I don’t think Michael would like it if I forced you to stay if you didn’t want to. I’m sure he’d understand, you were like a brother to him, you know.”

The thought of leaving Michael in favor of doing something else - _‘something cooler’_ a voice that mimicked the squip’s supplied - had created a metal ball that sank to the pit of his stomach. At Jeremy’s sudden downtrodden look, she began to delve into a flurry of apologies for bringing up a sensitive topic in front of Jeremy - despite his insistent reassurances that everything was well.

“It’s f-fine, really- I’ll stay, Aunty.”

With a sigh, the woman relented - taking a seat on the other side of her son’s bed. Mindless chatter about their present filled the room, with the occasional talk about something that Michael and he used to do. 

Jeremy snuck a glance towards the soft-featured boy whenever questions his friendship with Michael came up; he would always try to redirect or deflect the question.

* * *

_Michael plopped his school bag on the rugged floor - the white color scheme contrasting with the jet-black letters that were inscribed onto the back. Despite his persistence, the ‘Riends’ that was markered on refused to wash off; he simply gave up after a few tries, the letters serving as a cruel reminder of his used-to-be best friend._

_His best friend that left him to fend for himself at the drop of a hat._

_“Can you blame him, though? Even you would abandon a ‘friend’ like you.” a voice in his mind supplied. “You’re pathetic, you’re unpopular, you’re uncool. Can you really blame Jeremy for doing it? He only stayed friends with you out of pity. You were holding him back. Now look at him - popular, well-liked by all the cool kids, adored by all the girls. And it’s all because he cut ties with you."_

_Michael couldn’t hold back the tears that slid down his cheeks from his wet, glassy brown eyes. Sadness accompanied every step of his plod towards his messy, unmade bed._

_The unmarked metal container that peeked out from under his bed frame caught his eyes - a silver glint reflecting off its body. With hesitance, he slowly reached for the small case._

_His quivering hand opened the case, and his breath caught in his throat. Inside lay a familiar item - one that fished back old, painful memories that he would always try to keep locked.  
The small metal razor and its gleam were mesmerizing - luring him back to the depths of dark, murky water that he knew he wouldn’t be able to swim away from again._

_“It’s just a small cut. Nobody’s gonna see or care. Don’t you want to stop the pain? Don’t you want to stop feeling adrift? Don’t you want to feel better?” his mind chanted._

_His quivering fingers lifted up the razor - his eyes inspecting each and every sharp corner of the object. It’d be so easy; just a simple, small cut on his forearm to let his worries and sadness seep out like the crimson red liquid that would follow suit soon after._

_He forcefully shoved the thing back into its case. He couldn’t do it, he wouldn’t. Not when he’s made so much progress, not when his promise to Jeremy would be broken._

_“Coward,” his mind chastised, “Jeremy doesn’t care about you anymore. Just learn to accept it, you worthless loser-”_

_Michael tuned out the voice in his head and tried occupying his brain with the fumes of weed._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> He's headstrong, he's hopeful, he's steadfast.
> 
> How long will that last?
> 
> scream at me on Discord here: bread#6010


	4. a longing and some planning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me? uploading a week after the last one? PREPOSTEROUS!
> 
> anyway, would've uploaded sooner if I hadn't poured my life juice into writing half of this chapter quite literally right after the last one was released. had to take a quick break to recharge before I finished it. anyways, I hope you enjoy!

Jeremy stepped into school, his cherry-red backpack strapped across his shoulder. Scanning the corridors, he spots a group of now-familiar students. With a slow slog through the hallways, he gives a quick wave to the small group as he approached closer.

“H-Hi, guys,” Jeremy sputtered out, his fingers clutching the backpack strap. Small greetings were exchanged as they returned to whatever they were talking about prior as Jeremy stayed silent on the sidelines. Not long after, the first-period bell rang throughout the school.

“I’ll see you guys at lunch,” he muttered out quietly waving goodbye before walking away - a solemn expression on his face as his eyes stuck to the floor.

His auto-pilot feet led him to the entrance of his classroom, and with a deep breath, he stepped inside.

Mindless chatter filled the room as they waited for the teacher to enter. As he walked past desks and chairs that were occupied, he stopped at the two window-side desks at the back corner of the classroom. The two empty chairs somehow managed to trudge up painful memories of Michael.

The lack of the red-hooded boy in the seat next to him always seemed to sting for longer than it should. With a sigh, he lowered his bag onto the table-attached hanger before sitting down. The somewhat chilly January air seeped inside the classroom with how wide open the windows were, but nobody except for Jeremy seemed to be shivering from the cold. 

Hearing the door open, his head snapped to the front - a man he didn’t recognize donning a suit and a briefcase walking to the front of the class. Seeing the man raise his arm and slam it back down onto the wooden table caused the class’ attention to snap to him - their chatter dwindling to silent whispers and throat clears.

“My name is Mr. Arthur. I’ll be a substitute for,” The man paused as he read off his book, “Mr. Reyes. I expect you to be quiet, polite, and respectful whenever you’re in my class. Now, first of all, let’s do a roll call.” he said, flipping pages before his voice reverberated around the classroom - mispronounced last names dropping from his lips.

“Jeremy Heere.” The man called out, looking up and scanning the room for raised hands before spotting Jeremy’s.

More names were called and subsequent hands were raised.

“Michael Mell.” As expected, nobody in class was inclined to respond to a name that was not theirs. The teacher simply shook his head in disapproval before writing something onto the piece of paper. “How irresponsible, I hope everyone here takes their education seriously enough to show up to school, unlike this Mell student.”

A spike of discomfort bloomed up his chest at the mention of Michael. If Jeremy was brave, he would’ve argued that it’s not fair for a hospitalized person to be penalized for something out of control; he wasn’t.

So there he sat, an ever-sinking feeling gnawing at him as he tried to survive the rest of his classes.

* * *

The cafeteria was brimming with kids - some eating, some chatting, some committing heinous acts for reasons he couldn’t possibly comprehend, the usual. Jeremy’s eyes scanned the area, landing on the table that was occupied by six people. The wave coming from the raven-haired girl his heart used to pine for welcomed him into their circle around the table as he took a seat.

With a nervous wave back, he took a seat as he was offered some yogurt by one Jake Dillinger that he politely declined. Chatter about the newest rumor or gossip that was procured by Jenna filled the table’s atmosphere as he relegated himself to laying his head against the table - mind delving somewhere else.

He was snapped out of his thoughts when an odd silence befell the group. Six faces were looking at him - some in worry, some in curiosity, and some a mix of both. The sudden change of the group’s attention - now directed to him - was raising red flags and causing his anxiety to flare up.

“Jeremy, you good?” Rich asked with concern present in both his face and voice - a contrast to how the boy used to regard people. “You’ve been really quiet these days, and you look, like, really sick.”

His head quickly snapped up from its prior position. “Oh, uh, yeah. I’ve just been-” Thinking about what flowers I should get for my friend that was currently in a coma indirectly caused by me? “Feeling kind of nauseous, I g-guess. Probably just a stomach bug, I’ll get something for it later.” he reassured, putting up his best smile to try and seal the deal.

“Stomach bug? That sounds bad, I can just drop by the nurse’s office for some medi-” Jake was interrupted by the sudden and frantic shaking of Jeremy’s hands.

“It’s f-fine, really! I’ll get something for it later!” Cold sweat formed at the tip of his fingers as he reassured the boy.

A conceded sigh left the older boy’s lips. “If you say so, Jeremy.”

Jeremy allowed a quiet breath of relief to escape him before he sagged back down to the table.

* * *

Opening the door to his house, he was met with silence. His father had finally returned to working - returning only late at night. ‘It's a good thing.’ Jeremy tried to rationalize to himself. His father had finally gotten something to do in place of laying on the couch the entirety of the day like some sort of potato.

And yet, every time he stepped inside, the ghostly quiet couldn’t help but worm its way into his spine and send chills down it.

Deep, heavy steps accompanied the plod to his bedroom. Reaching for the door handle, his hand froze as it hovered slightly above. Memories of Michael and him in his room - playing video games, talking about college plans, drinking awful vintage sodas, flooded his mind. 

Swinging the door open, he was greeted only with emptiness. Dirty clothes and empty soda cans were strewn across the carpet floor. He plopped his backpack down before plopping himself down onto the unmade, navy-blue queen-sized bed.

The heavy drooping of his eyes happened without him being aware of it, and not long after, he drifted asleep with memories of the times they shared this bed during late-night sleepovers.

* * *

_Dark, sleep-deprived bags occupied Michael’s now dull amber eyes as he continued trudging past the maze-like hallways of this school._

_As he hung a right, his sight immediately landed on the tall and lanky figure of his ~~best friend~~ ex-best friend. The sudden urge to run or vomit or maybe both immediately rose to the front of his mind, but that wasn’t an option; the only way to his biology class was this hallway._

_With a shaky inhale and a ragged exhale, he slowly walked forward - head down and eyes on the floor. As he walked closer and closer to the group, his ear caught small words and tidbits of their conversation._

_He continued walking - almost completely passing by the small bunch of friends when-_

_“Hey, Jeremy. You’re going to Jake’s party right?”_

_“Of course! It’s gonna be like, the biggest party ever, right?”_

_Michael didn’t even realize that his legs stopped moving until he heard hushed whispers behind him. Breaking into a jog, he rounded the closest corner before calming his pounding heart._

_This was his chance. The opportunity that he continued to hold out for. A chance to bandage their broken and tattered friendship._

_“Do you honestly think he’s going to take you back? I didn’t know you were that pathetic with such hopeful wishing.” a familiar voice in his head said - the sneer prominent in its voice._

_But he didn’t care, he would make things right again. He muffled out all the insults and libel that dripped from his own mind as he walked to class - a plan brewing._

_He ignored the possibility of the plan failing. ___

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hate debating with myself on whether or not I should go with one scene or a different one. but yeah, I hope you enjoyed this one. peace from your cool neighborhood loaf on a typewriter.
> 
> Also forgot to plug my discord dms IF YOU WANT TO TALK OR SCREAM AT ME ABOUT THE TRASH I CHURN SLIDE INTO MY DMS ON bread#6010


	5. confrontations: past and future

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *laughs nervously* haha, remember when i said this wasn't gonna take any longer than two weeks, haha... yeah....

The sudden heavy rain that fell upon the town dampened Jeremy’s mood as he was forced to find shelter in a nearby 7-Eleven. The door slid sideways before a small chime rang - accompanying his entry. The small store was warm and filled with color - a stark contrast to the wet and grey atmosphere that was outside. As he walked past shelves filled to the brim with various products, a certain machine at the back of the store had caught his eye.

Approaching closer, the sickly-sweet smell of processed juice hit his nose as he took in what exactly he had seen; A slushie machine. Machinery noises buzzed as slushie of various flavors were spun and mixed inside a glass container that sat above.

Jeremy was snapped from his daze when the clearing of a throat sounded behind him. Turning around, he’s met with a woman clad in a store uniform - hair tied back in a bun. A pair of thick, square-shaped glasses hung from her shirt pocket.

“Can I help you, sir?” she said - more cheery than what’s usually expected of a convenience store employee.  
“O-Oh, I’m fine thank you.” He sputtered. A look of deep thought encompassed her face for a quick second before she snapped her fingers in an epiphany.

“I recognize that voice! You looked a bit different, but I can’t forget that hormone-inflicted squeak of a voice you have.” She laughed at her comment as Jeremy tried to brush off the jab at him with an awkward chuckle.

“Where’s your friend, by the way? The one that always wears a red-hoodie? I haven’t seen him around much, not even for a slushie.” The way his body stiffened at the mention of Michael didn’t go unnoticed as he felt wary eyes bore holes through his downcast expression.

As the tense silence grew louder between the two, her nervous voice attempted to break it. “I’m sorry, is he-” before she could finish, Jeremy gave a heavy nod before muttering out a response.

“He’s sick. In the hospital.” The words that left his lips were thick with sadness. At the knowledge, a sort of grimness befell the girl in front of her - similar to that of a person who just received bad news about a loved one.

Almost like a knife to a stick of butter, the girl once more cut the silence, walking past Jeremy and grabbing a slushie cup from the many that were stored. Pulling down the handle and letting a stream of the frozen beverage pour into the cup, she quickly capped it before turning around to Jeremy - a solemn expression on her face.

“On the house. It’s watermelon, your favorite, right?.” she stated, letting the slushie-filled cup shift from her grip to his. He gives her a nod before her lips curved upwards in resemblance of a smile.

As she returned to her place at the register, Jeremy eyed the drink in his hands before bringing up the straw to his lips - taking a sip of the ice-cold beverage. The sweet, fruity flavor that hit his tongue fought with the sadness that crawled around his stomach.

Memories of his and Michael’s visits to this very 7-Eleven just for his daily dose of slushies rose to the surface of his mind. Feeling wetness under his eyes, he placed a finger to it - feeling drops of tears occupying the dark bags under his eyes.

With the sleeve of his shirt, he wiped them away before realizing that the downpour outside finally conceded. He walked to the exit - giving one last wave and a reassuring smile to the clerk before taking a step onto the wet concrete.

The sudden ringing that sounded had startled him. Slowly pulling the device out of his pocket with a free hand, the words “Micah’s Nanay” were on his screen as his ringtone continued to play. Tapping the green circular button, he brought it up to his ear.

“Mrs. Mell?”

“Jeremy, where are you right now?” The response that came from the other side sounded urgent. A knot of worry formed at the pit of his stomach before he croaked out “At a 7-Eleven.”

There was a pause before she started speaking again.

“Jeremy, I need you to take a deep breath for me.”

“W-Why? Is something wrong with Michael? Did his condition get worse? Did he-” As his breath became ragged and tears formed at the corner of his eyes, he got an answer he wasn’t expecting.

“It’s not that, Jeremy. Jeremy, he’s- he’s awake.”

His eyes widened in disbelief. His grip on the cup faltered - allowing it to fall to the ground and spilling its insides onto the ground.

Michael was awake.

Michael was awake.

The sentence served as a mantra - constantly repeating in his head as he ran as fast as his legs could go.

* * *

_Michael sat - waiting patiently for someone to enter. Despite the drunken teens that were partying right outside the door, not a single person has yet to even visit the bathroom, neither to pee and/or puke._

_The shaking of the doorknob caught his attention. As the door swung open, he laid down onto the bathtub - careful to hide behind the shower curtains. Peeking through the edge, he could see the exhausted-looking face of the person he was looking for._

_Pushing the curtains aside and yelling “Jeremy!” probably wasn’t the best way to announce his sudden appearance to the boy, as seen with Jeremy’s heart attack-experiencing reaction._

_Taking a second to calm himself down whilst clenching his chest tightly as if his heart was going to jump out right then and there, a look of surprise was on his face as he asked Michael what he was doing here._

_Instead of answering his question, he merely shot back a flurry of his own. With each question, a look of discomfort across Jeremy’s face became more and more apparent._

_“This is important, Jeremy! You need to get rid of that squip!” He yelled. That seemed to be the limit for his restraint._

_“I don’t need to do anything, Michael! Only good has happened to me ever since I got this thing!”_

_A look of hurt spread across his face at the declaration. Tears threatened to spill as he looked towards the bathroom tile and muttered out weakly: “Us not being friends anymore is a good thing?”_

_Jeremy recoiled - realizing what he just said; he didn’t dwell on the thought any longer. As he walked towards the door, Michael walked past - blocking the exit._

_“Move, Michael.”_

_“Or what?”_

_“Get out of my way, loser.”_

_His face contorted into that of pure shock as the sentence repeated in his mind._

_Hearing the door slam open and close behind him, he finally realized that Jeremy had left the bathroom. **Left him**_

_Every fiber of his being was screaming in hurt and sadness. Unable to stand upright, his knees buckled - allowing him to fall to the cold tile floor._

_“You got your answer. He doesn’t want anything to do with a useless, desperate, and pathetic loser like you.” The voice that he tried so hard to ignore spat out - words laced with venom._

_For once, he didn’t deny it; he nodded numbly as tears streamed down his cheeks._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sad boy is sad.
> 
> scream at my lies regarding update schedules on my discord here:  
> bread#6010


	6. new beginnings, old memories

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was literally crying because I took so long to get this out. These last few weeks have been rough as tests from almost every subject my class has got dropped on us simultaneously right before winter break. I've still got two weeks before the holidays, so expect a snail crawl of an update schedule in the coming days.

The familiar-smelling sterile air of the hospital invaded his nose as he stepped inside the hospital. The burning of his strained lungs did nothing to impede his speed as he ran down hallways and past groups of hospital staff.

Turning a corner, the white door that led to Michael’s room came in sight - almost indiscernible from all the others if not for the numbers that hung above the door frame. Leaning against the wall, his exhales and inhales served as the only noise in the quiet hallway.

Courage pooled into his stomach - fueling him as he gripped the cold, steel handle and pushed inwards, causing the door to sway back on its hinges. The afternoon sun shined inside the bleak room, giving it an illusion of life. But this time, there was life.

Michael was sitting upright on his bed. His eyes open; tired and exhausted-looking, but open.

A knot became lodged inside his throat as Jeremy struggled to construct words into a coherent sentence. The boy turned his head at the sound - chestnut eyes widening as they met Jeremy’s own.

Each passing second caused the suffocating silence to grow thicker and thicker.

Brown eyes turned glassy as tears pooled at the corner of Michael’s eyes. Streams of tears spilled from the boy’s eyes before his mouth twitched and trembled in an attempt to speak.

“J-Jeremy…” he croaked out - his voice painfully dry. At that, Jeremy’s eyes mirrored his friend’s. His shaky legs found resolve as he rushed over to his bedside, planting his teary face into the hospital gown.

“I’m here, Micah,” Jeremy murmured, and that was all it took for the tears to flow.

The chirping of birds and the soft blow of the wind served as a lullaby as Jeremy’s breathing slowed. Exhaustion rippled throughout his frame, and soon after, his consciousness slipped away like sand from his fingers.

* * *

The morning was serene - birds chirping for their mothers and bees buzzing around in search of its next flower. The knock on the door caught his attention as it swung open before he got a chance to respond.

“Hey, Mikey.” Spotting the bouquet, an entertained smile slipped on his face as his friend pulled out the day-old flowers from the vase and slid the new ones in.

“Flowers again, Jer? If I didn’t know better, I would’ve thought that you’re secretly running a flower shop behind my back.” The boy snickered at his own remark.

“Well, unless you want some useless paper cards piling up here, then I suggest you deal with it, Mikey.” Jeremy said with an almost believable nonchalance.

The two fell into their familiar dynamic as Jeremy and Michael’s bickering filled the room. The chemistry they had was still there, and it was present in the way they talked with each other; it was almost like nothing happened between the two.

_~~He ignored the way a sting spread across his body whenever Jeremy talked about the cool kids in a friendly manner.~~ _

* * *

“You sure you don’t want me to take that backpack for you, honey?” Evelyn asked as she fished out her car keys. Michael let out a groan as a faint blush spread through his cheek.

“Yes, ma!” He called back, “It’s only to the car, I can hold it. Besides, if I get tired, I have Jeremiah here as my personal helper.” He patted the lanky boy’s back.

His friend let out a sigh as he laughed into his hand.

The group reached the car and entered one by one. As the ignition turned on, exhaust fumes filled the air - a trail of smoke behind them as they drove away from the hospital parking lot.

Trees and houses and cars flashed by the window as they drove by the neighborhood. The blue of the sky and the green of the grass was a refreshing change from the monotone white that used to surround him constantly.

The familiar yellow-painted house came into view as they parked in front. The second the vehicle ceased motion, Michael was the first to exit.

“C’mon, Jer!” he yelled, looking back to the car as his friend sluggishly pulled himself out of the passenger seat. With a quick motion, he retrieved the spare house keys that were lying dormant under the doormat - waiting for its time to be used again after such a long time.

Jeremy stood behind him as he slotted the keys in and slowly pushed the door open.

* * *

The softness of the grass scratched through his shirt and against his back as he laid atop the hill looking at all the clouds.

Laughter and chuckles invaded the quiet, serene atmosphere and caught his attention.

He sat up - scanning the meadow for the source. His eyes landed on two children that couldn’t have been older than 10, one of which was rolling on the parallel hill with the other quickly following suit.

Constant giggling filled the air as the two rolled down - their expression one of immeasurable joy.

As they landed at the bottom completely covered in grass and dandelion petals, he took a few steps to close the distance between him and the two. Their mouths opened and closed as words he couldn’t hear became more and more audible with each step he took.

“Hey, Jer?” The raven-haired boy said.” he froze at the way the nickname was uttered - with adoration and familiarity.

“Yeah, Micah?”

“We’ll be best friends forever, right?” Hope shined in the boy’s eyes as he waited for a response.

The other boy sat in silence - chestnut hair masking his expression. A loud, amused laugh that didn’t belong rang out through the grass fields.

“Of course not, Micah. Who’d wanna stay friends with you?” The other boy asked the coldness of the tone masked with feigned innocence.

* * *

Michael’s eyes shot open as he awoke in a cold sweat. A sense of dread gnawed at his stomach as he sat up and snuck a glance towards the digital clock by his bedside.

**3:21**

Michael reached for his phone, scrolling through his contact list and stopping at “Jere-bear”

With a shaky finger, he pressed the call button.

“Hey-” A long yawn interrupted the voice on the other side, “Micah. What’s up?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next on Will I Ever Be Satisfied With Making These Children Cry: talking about feelings!
> 
> Talk to me and ask me questions on my Discord here: bread#6010


	7. your reassurances

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *blows dust off of fic* is this thing still on?
> 
> Apologies for the long time before an update, I know I said my update times would get better when the holidays started, but I guess life just didn't agree with me.

Michael sat at the foot of his bed with his head in his knees, the occasional sniffle that left him filling his dark, unlit room. Lifting his head, bloodshot eyes moved lazily around the room.

Video game consoles that he would spend hours upon hours playing with Jeremy, music band merch from the countless concerts and shows that he and Jeremy would attend, vintage soda cans and bottles that he would drink - despite Jeremy’s insistence that all of them tasted terrible - whenever he had the chance to, and small gifts and trinkets from Jeremy that would always warm his chest; they were strewn around his room in a show of his hobbies and likes.

Jeremy had always been there with him, because he was his best friend, and because he enjoyed these things. But now, Michael couldn’t help but doubt these things.

Had Jeremy ever been his friend? Did Jeremy ever enjoy these things? Was he just friends with him purely out of pity? Did he pretend to like the things Michael liked to not upset him?

Michael’s thoughts continued to spiral further as more tears slipped down his cheeks. The feeling of dread drowned out his rational thinking, suffocating him in the sadness. As his breathing picked up and his lungs began to burn from overexertion, the sound of tapping against glass pulled him out of his thoughts

With the back of his palm, Michael wiped the tears that clung to his eyes - the streaks that went down his cheek staying stubbornly prominent. Walking towards his bedroom window and flipping on the light switch, he peeked past his curtains to the sight of a familiar figure.

Jeremy sat on a nearby tree branch, his chestnut-brown eyes shining in the dark like some sort of feline. The moonlight illuminated the mop of curls that stood atop his freckled face, each freckle like its own star shining brightly in space.

The boy waved from the other side, a small smile on his face. 

A different kind of flush appeared on his face before Michael fought to subdue it. Pulling open the window, lanky limbs entered his room before Jeremy himself stepped inside. They sat on his bed - the softness of Michael’s wool blanket under them.

“Hey, Micah.” Jeremy said in a soft-spoken tone, his greeting garnering no response other than a nod from the other boy

The two sat in awkward silence, both boys not knowing what to say to the other.

A bout of built-up courage showed through Jeremy’s expression as his hand reached for Michael’s - holding the other’s hand in a tight, calming grip.

“Micah, what’s wrong?” Jeremy whispered, worry woven in his voice. 

A sniffle, and then, a body-wracking sob as tears flowed freely from his eyes. At the sight, Jeremy leaned closer - his arms wrapping around him in a hug.

“Am I your friend, Jere?” Michael said, his voice muffled against the taller boy’s chest. The implication of the question left a sad feeling in the pit of Jeremy’s stomach. 

“Of course you are, Micah. You’re my best friend, okay?” Jeremy whispered back, his hand carding through the brunette’s mop of hair comfortingly. 

A sniffle left Michael before the boy pulled away - his hands reaching to wipe the tears off his face before crossing them over his chest.

“Sometimes, I-” He paused, the quiver in his voice and the biting of his lip clear signs of his hesitation. “Sometimes I just feel like I’m not good enough.” Michael explained, “Not good enough for you, good enough for my moms, not good enough for…” His voice trailed off, his eyes wet and glassy.

“Micah. Look at me.” Jeremy said - his stern voice demanding his friend’s attention; his caring eyes stared back at Michael’s tear-filled ones. “You’re enough. You’re always enough, alright? You deserve so much better than what you’ve been given, and I can’t apologize enough for what I added to that.” Jeremy exclaimed, pulling his friend back into his arms before squeezing in a reassuring manner.

 _“He doesn’t know. Would he think the same way if he knew about what you really wanted? About the disgusting things you thought about him?”_ A voice whispered, eliciting more tears from him as he pushed Jeremy away - much to the other boy’s bewilderment.

“Micah? What’s wrong?” The confusion was clear in his tone as his hand reached for Michael, only for it to be swatted away.

The resounding ‘smack’ filled the room as silence followed. Not long after, Michael took in exactly what he had done - his eyes widening and mouth agape in guilt at the realization

His hands shook in distress as drops of sweat filtered through his fingers. His fragile self was at the edge, ready to fall into a panicked spiral at any moment.

“You- you can’t get near m-me, I’m- I’m-” Michael stumbled over his words, panic and fear permeating each word that left the boy’s quivering mouth. His feet shuffled around the mattress, pushing him away from his friend’s mass as his hands flew up to his face. 

“I- you- please j-just get away.” He whimpered.  
Jeremy can’t get close, Jeremy can’t know, Jeremy would hate him, Jeremy would be revolted by him, Jeremy would- _Jeremy would-_

The world slowed down, and not long after, Michael registered the reason why. Warm lips were pressed against his own as the taste of cherry coke infiltrated his taste buds. His bone-deep weariness melted away, giving way to a warmness that slowly filled each part of his exhaustion-ridden body.

The soft curls that brushed against his forehead, the grip on his shoulder as Jeremy leaned closer, the sweet taste of cherry on his tongue - everything was perfect.

The two laid in bed - limbs interlocking with each other as they held each other close with affection.

Michael, for the first time, had a nightmare-less sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and here we are, almost 7 thousand words in and I am still unable to write any sort of fluff whatosever. *sigh*. I'm grateful for those who followed me with this small journey.
> 
> Ever wanted to scream at me for my shitty update schedule? Well, you can!
> 
> Discord: bread#6010


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